B
BrooklynQ
Guest
Daughter says. "Pop - what's for dinner?"
"Steak"
"On the grill?"
"yes"
"Alright!" and she pumps a fist in the air for a second.
So for dinner tonight I grilled up a london broil.
Seasoned it like I always do and put it on the fire. Got distracted by a neighbor for a few minutes. One side burned a little bit. The best way to describe it is that it seared too long. Crunchy exterior on that side.
Flipped the steak. Cooked the other side to perfection. Got it to medium rare. Brought it in, sliced it and served it for dinner. Juicy and tender.
On one side of the steak tho, there was a gray edge of well done meat approriate to being left over the fire too long and a dark brown seared crunchy bark. But the rest of it was nice and pink, the way we normally eat it.
"Pop?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened to the steak? It's burned."
"It's not burned. It's just well done on that side."
Son "I can't eat burnt food."
"It's not burnt. If you asked for a well done steak in a restaurant the whole steak would be like that."
"I don't care, I can't eat it."
Daughter sees I'm getting annoyed and takes a small piece into her mouth. Chews once and spits it out.
Daughter joins in... "It's awful. I can't chew that."
"Alright" says Pop. "That's all there is. Just cut off the parts you don't like and eat the rest."
I'm sitting there thinking about the black steak, rock hard pork chops and dead chickens my father used to incinerate for dinner, and how we had to eat it all and I'm getting a bit ticked off. I don't say anything, but the kids can tell I'm annoyed, but they hold their ground. Why don't I send them off without dinner? Well my daughter is a type one diabetic so we don't fight about food in the house.
"Well guys, says I, that's all there is."
"There any ribs left from Sunday?" says son.
"Nope. We finished them. Eat the steak it's fine."
Silence.
Time passes. Wife joins in. "The steak's good. Eat it. Just cut off the part you don't like."
Kids. "It's burnt. We can't eat it."
More silence.
More time passes.
Son gets up and makes pizza for him and his sister.
After dinner, "Pop" - says my daughter - "can you make some more ribs next time instead?"
Son "Yeah. You don't burn them."
Next time I'm gonna gill up some bugs.
"Steak"
"On the grill?"
"yes"
"Alright!" and she pumps a fist in the air for a second.
So for dinner tonight I grilled up a london broil.
Seasoned it like I always do and put it on the fire. Got distracted by a neighbor for a few minutes. One side burned a little bit. The best way to describe it is that it seared too long. Crunchy exterior on that side.
Flipped the steak. Cooked the other side to perfection. Got it to medium rare. Brought it in, sliced it and served it for dinner. Juicy and tender.
On one side of the steak tho, there was a gray edge of well done meat approriate to being left over the fire too long and a dark brown seared crunchy bark. But the rest of it was nice and pink, the way we normally eat it.
"Pop?"
"Yeah?"
"What happened to the steak? It's burned."
"It's not burned. It's just well done on that side."
Son "I can't eat burnt food."
"It's not burnt. If you asked for a well done steak in a restaurant the whole steak would be like that."
"I don't care, I can't eat it."
Daughter sees I'm getting annoyed and takes a small piece into her mouth. Chews once and spits it out.
Daughter joins in... "It's awful. I can't chew that."
"Alright" says Pop. "That's all there is. Just cut off the parts you don't like and eat the rest."
I'm sitting there thinking about the black steak, rock hard pork chops and dead chickens my father used to incinerate for dinner, and how we had to eat it all and I'm getting a bit ticked off. I don't say anything, but the kids can tell I'm annoyed, but they hold their ground. Why don't I send them off without dinner? Well my daughter is a type one diabetic so we don't fight about food in the house.
"Well guys, says I, that's all there is."
"There any ribs left from Sunday?" says son.
"Nope. We finished them. Eat the steak it's fine."
Silence.
Time passes. Wife joins in. "The steak's good. Eat it. Just cut off the part you don't like."
Kids. "It's burnt. We can't eat it."
More silence.
More time passes.
Son gets up and makes pizza for him and his sister.
After dinner, "Pop" - says my daughter - "can you make some more ribs next time instead?"
Son "Yeah. You don't burn them."
Next time I'm gonna gill up some bugs.